


As Sweet as It Is Bitter

by saeyoungs-sunflower (sunnyclarke)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, One Shot, Past Character Death, Past Violence, Post-Canon, Secret Ending Spoilers (Mystic Messenger)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26144908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyclarke/pseuds/saeyoungs-sunflower
Summary: For the first time, Jumin Han let himself break. He tried to convince himself that grief was bittersweet, he only wished that is was a sweet as it was bitter.
Relationships: Han Jumin & V | Kim Jihyun
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	As Sweet as It Is Bitter

It was straightforward, really.

Unlock door. Enter. Shut door. Hang up coat. Take off shoes.

It was routine, the same as it was yesterday and the same as it will be tomorrow. Yet, it couldn’t feel more wrong. Something as simple as unlocking a door became foreign to him when a steady hand was replaced with clumsy fingers, and a quiet mind became swarmed with static.

Jumin loosened his tie and undid the top button of his black shirt. He stepped into the centre of his penthouse, a bouquet of chrysanthemums under one arm and his head reeling. He stood motionless, staring out into the city through the large glass panels. He couldn’t understand.

He couldn’t understand how it was that, despite everything they had, this was the way it ended. After every family dinner, every walk home from school together, every bottle of wine shared, this was the way God had planned their friendship to come to a close. Before, he would have guessed that it would end in a hospital, with silver hair and cracked skin, fond memories and shared joy in abundance; but instead it ended with bullets and screams and whatever it is that nightmares are born of. It was no place for the end.

Jumin surveyed the room, a dark and hollow space only visible by the illumination of nearby buildings. He was completely and utterly alone.

Therefore, for the first time in his twenty-seven years of life, Jumin Han let himself break.

He took out a bottle of red wine, pouring himself a generous glass. And then another, and then another, until he gave up on the glass all together, instead opting for strangling the neck of the bottle as he emptied it of its poison. With every drop that passed his lips, the scene that played in his head grew more vivid as reality began to blur.

The scene started with him sprinting through the building, guards on either side of him as they rounded the corner, stopping in their tracks when they spotted the intimidating doors that lay ahead. He had made one step towards them when he heard the gunshot, and then did not hesitate to charge towards the doors, bursting through.

He can see his body now, limp and resting in a pool of rich red. He could literally see the life flowing out of V with every passing second as he merely looked on, utterly helpless. He couldn’t help, he was too late.

He didn’t say goodbye.

With a frustrated grunt Jumin stumbled towards the bedroom but stopped himself halfway, his eyes landing on the bunch of flowers that he had brought back from the venue, already starting the wither and the petals starting to fall. That was the first crack.

It started with a single drop gliding down his cheek, that rested on the tip of his chin before falling onto his dark tie. He impatiently wiped his face, standing tall and looking straight ahead, but it all in vain. Without warning nor control, every tear that had remained unshed had surfaced and poured.

He should just go to bed. Leave this day behind him. He had his closure now, it was time to move on and to be the man he was before all this chaos. To be Jumin Han again.

Then why did he remain where he stood?

Jumin dug the heels of his palms into his eye sockets hard enough to see stars as his knees buckled beneath him, his frame crumbling to the floor. He was renowned for his stoicism, practicality, and his unwavering ability to keep whatever pain that threatened to bite to only get as far as barking at his door. But tonight, he let himself entertain the torturous idea of the hypothetical, the ‘could haves’ and the ‘should haves’ that may have saved the life of the only man, the only  _ human being _ who he wanted to be by his side until his last breath. The one who stayed with no conditions attached, who loved Jumin truly and effortlessly. A companionship, a bond like no other; Jumin and Jihyun. The rich kids. As similar as night and day, but just as perfectly matched. Friends,  _ brothers. _

_ What if he had tried calling him an extra time? What if he had gotten into his car and hunted him down himself? What if he called the helicopter five minutes earlier? Was that all it took? Could he have done it? _

But he still couldn’t understand. His door had always been open, his light always left on, waiting for V to come to him. To ask for his help, to tell him where he’s been hiding away, and why he thought that the darkness was more forgiving when walked through alone.

He wanted to scream, not realising that he already was until his voice broke and died out.

He just simply  _ couldn’t understand _ how V didn’t realise his own worth. How he didn’t know the extent to which the world needed his kindness, his warmth. How he could let his life be thrown away like that, a life as rare and giving as his was.

Maybe it wasn’t that Jumin couldn’t understand, perhaps he just wouldn’t. If this was the bliss of ignorance, then what kind of hellish agony did knowledge feel like?

Jumin’s hands trembled as he grasped the empty wine bottle so fiercely that his knuckles turned white, contrasting the red of his blood-shot eyes. His impulses took over as he launched the bottle at the wall, droplets of red wine scattering across the cream walls as shards of glass showered around him.

He rested his forehead against the icy floor and slammed his fist against it, hardly registering the sharp pain of glass piercing his flesh. He intertwined his fingers whilst he desperately prayed. Not to God, but to whom he had lost.

_ Please, V, not yet. Don’t let go yet. Tell me it’s not true. _

_ We were going to grow old together. You were going to be my best man, and I yours. What about all the laughs, smiles, memories, that now we’ll never have? We were meant to have longer than this. I’m begging you, Jihyun. You always believed in magic, please believe in it one last time. Come back. _

_ For the love of God, don’t leave me here alone. _

Minutes, maybe hours past in that position, until his tears ran dry and his voice grew rough. Jumin tried to move, but the dizzying effect of sitting up meant it took him a moment to become steady before he dragged himself to the wall. He rested his back against it, elbows on his bent knees and his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Grief was a funny little thing. It gnawed at you from the inside, feeding on everything that had any flavour of regret or devastation. But, in a twisted sort of way, it was such a beautiful thing to love so deeply that the wound was just as deeply felt. Unfortunately, the love Jumin felt during his grief also ate away at him, since it was left abandoned with no place to go when the one person it would run to was gone.

Perhaps God saw how tired and wounded his friend was and showed mercy on him by letting him rest, by bringing him home. In that case, was Jumin not home? Did Jihyun not have a home on earth at all? What a tragic life, if the only home you have to go back to at the end of the day is Heaven. But at least Jihyun had peace now, even if that was something that Jumin couldn’t provide.

Jumin used these ideas in an attempt to convince himself that grief was bittersweet. He only wished that the taste which lingered on his tongue was as sweet as it was bitter.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he did recall the flashing images of Jihyun’s lifeless and icy body as it laid frozen before everything went black, and he slowly began to slip into the realm of a dream.

_ A warm light pierced through the darkness, revealing a tall figure as they made their way towards Jumin, and his eyes pricked when he identified the burst of mint-coloured hair. _

_ Jihyun embraced Jumin and his tears resurfaced, streaming down his face before floating away into oblivion. Jihyun pulled back, looking into the eyes of his oldest friend, his voice soft as he spoke. _

_ “You’re okay, Jumin. You’re not as alone as you’ve tricked yourself into believing you are, alright? I’m never too far away, but you’ve also got to take a look around you. Stop being afraid now. Stop letting your emotions run just below the surface. If you open up your heart, you aren’t going to bleed out; you’re going to set yourself free.” _

_ Jumin’s lips curled into a faint smile, “Always so cheesy.” _

_ “That’s me,” Jihyun chuckled. “Be brave. For me.” _

_ “If it’s for you, I’d do anything.” _

_ “Then live. Please, for Christ’s sake, Jumin. Just live.” _

_ “…Alright. But,“ he had to ask, he had to know, “Jihyun, what could I have done-“ _

_ But Jihyun faded away before Jumin had a chance to finish, before he had time to ask what could have saved him, and to say everything that he didn’t get to say the day he left. To say thank you for everything he taught him, to ask where it went wrong; to say goodbye. But he disappeared, just like he did before. Without warning, without explanation. As if he was never there at all. _

The light of the morning sun blinded Jumin when he pried his eyes open the next day, a pounding in his head and every movement sending a wave of nausea through him. He found himself lying in fragments of glass, the ringing in his ear returning as he sat up straight. He checked the time.

8:17am. He would usually be at work by this time-

His thought was interrupted by an incoming call, every ring feeling like a strike against the head. Jumin squinted as he read the contact name before answering.

“Assistant Kang.”

“Mr. Han, is everything alright? You are scheduled to have a meeting in less than an hour, would you like me to cancel it?”

“No need, just push it forward by an hour. I’ll be there soon,” Jumin croaked, his voice coarse and weak.

“…Mr. Han, if I dare to make a suggestion, I think you should rest today. You must have had a rough-“

“Jaehee.”

The woman on the other side was caught off-guard, which was evident by the pause before her response, “Y-yes?”

“Move the meeting,” he attempted to say sternly, but it came out with a tinge of desperation, “Please.”

“…Okay, sir. I will see you soon.”

“Yes, see you soon.”

Jumin hung up, prying himself off the floor when his gaze once again fell on the bunch of white flowers, some now stained with red wine. He reached for the only pristine one, extracting the flower and moving towards his desk, taking out two pieces of parchment paper and the heaviest hardback he could find on the bookshelf. With careful hands, he placed the flower in the middle of the sheets of paper, before slipping them between the pages of the book. Lastly, he rested a paper weight on top and stepped back. Jumin never used to be overly sentimental, but he had experienced a lot of firsts recently, so what was one more?

He showered, he ate, he dressed himself. He fed Elizabeth the Third and brushed his teeth. There was a knock at the door as he was fixing his tie in the mirror, and he told them to enter as he smoothed down his jacket.

“The car is ready when you are, sir,” said Driver Kim.

“Thank you. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Yes, sir.”

When he heard the door click shut, Jumin peered out the windows, looking out into the sky where the clouds gathered and the sun shone. He smiled. An unconvincing one, but a smile nonetheless.

_ It was a pleasure, old friend. Rest well now. I will see you again, but not soon. I have some things to do before I join you. _

One day he would be able to start afresh. One day he could fulfil Jihyun’s wish. To seek help, to open up his heart, to set himself free of his threads. To  _ live _ .

But today was not that day. Today he had to be the Jumin Han that everyone knew. Executive Director, heir of C&R International. Leader of the RFA.

It was routine, the same as yesterday and the same as it will be tomorrow.

Put on shoes. Shrug on coat. Open door. Exit. Lock door.

And yet, it couldn’t feel more wrong.

He let his mind wander on the drive to the office as he watched out the car window, letting the sun’s rays caress his face. It was a comfort, a gentle and constant reminder that his friend was, indeed, never too far away.

_ I miss you, and I won’t forget you, but I’ll let you go now. In time, I’ll do what you’ve asked of me. Be patient, have faith. _

_ I will live. For you. _


End file.
